


I can still be that place where you run (instead of the one that you're running from)

by KHart



Series: let 'em wonder how we got this far, 'cause I don't really need to wonder at all [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, F/F, Multi, but like you guys know the end to the story already, different pov hello, it's just a look into how they reacted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 10:03:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16890474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KHart/pseuds/KHart
Summary: For a moment, they're quiet, utterly silent and seemingly incapable of speech.But then a sob tears away from Becky's throat before she can even register its existence, and it breaks the stillness.Her shoulders shudder, and she's suddenly inhaling sharply, almost gasping, blinking at the spiteful tears in her eyes.---Or: A look into what it felt like to watch Charlotte walk through the door.





	I can still be that place where you run (instead of the one that you're running from)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rq_maybe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rq_maybe/gifts).



> And, love me, baby, please
> 
> 'Cause I could still be the only one you need, the only one close enough to feel you breathe
> 
> Yeah, I could still be that place where you run, instead of the one that you're running from
> 
> -Love Me or Leave Me, Little Mix-

As soon as the door shuts behind Charlotte, it's like whatever strings that had been holding Becky up are cut in two. 

Her knees wobble, her stability wavers, and then she's sinking to the floor with crossed legs and a crooked trajectory. She’s barely able to catch herself and stay relatively upright. 

Bayley's the first one beside her, the first pair of arms to wrap around her, but Sasha's not far behind. She's on her other side a tenth of a second later. 

For a moment, they're quiet, utterly silent and seemingly incapable of speech. 

But then a sob tears away from Becky's throat before she can even register its existence, and it breaks the stillness. 

Her shoulders shudder, and she's suddenly inhaling sharply, almost gasping, and blinking at the spiteful tears in her eyes.

Sasha’s hands start moving up and down her back gently, steady and strong—always strong, always steady. (A little less steady lately, but Becky hasn’t blamed her for that.)

Bayley’s hands are on her waist, holding fast, holding firm—never faltering, never fading. (Sometimes shaking these days, but Becky hasn’t minded helping her keep them still, so it’s alright.)

Because she gets it. Because she’s been using her own hands to hold the both of them these past six weeks, these painful weeks that they now have under their belts as evidence that they’re not invincible—at least not against someone already inside their hearts.

Because she’s been trying to use her hands to soothe their hurt, the hurt that she feels too but isn’t as worried about having in her own veins.

She’s been trying to use her hands to hold theirs, to stroke through their hair, to be their grounding points when the doubts get to be just a little too overwhelming.

She's been trying, and her hands have been reliably ready to pick up their pieces and hold them in place. Her hands have been bleeding, but they hadn't yet let her down. 

Until now.

Now, they've proved themselves incapable of holding up under pressure.

And she’s looking at them like they’ve failed her. Or, maybe, like she’d failed them.

Because the warmth of Charlotte’s wrist is still lingering on her fingers. The softness of Charlotte's skin against Becky’s own had still felt the same, and the sensation was just re-ingrained into every single one of Becky’s nerves in an instant.

It was the first touch they’ve shared in a month and a half, and Becky had so wanted to tug Charlotte closer, pull her into her arms and refuse to let go. She had wanted to bury her face in Charlotte’s neck and inhale her scent, because she’d almost managed to forget the familiarity of it.

She had wanted to just tell Charlotte then, that she loves her, that _they_ love her and need her and miss her so horribly it hurts.

Because Charlotte had been _right there_. Because Becky had gotten to her in time, and Becky had held her in place.

So, they were so close. They were all so close, but Becky was the closest of all. And she’d let Charlotte slip away again.

Charlotte is so adept at slipping away, it seems.

They hadn’t known she was so good at it, honestly. Which isn’t their fault, because Charlotte had never run from them before. So, how could they have known?

They couldn’t have... Not when they had always known Charlotte as the one who stayed.

Not when Charlotte was the one that was there at the end of the day. Not when she was the one that was there at the end of the night, when everything was tired and slow and lazy. Not when Charlotte was the one that was there in the middle of it all, when everything was fast and frenzied and overwhelming. And definitely not when Charlotte had been there at the beginning. The beginning of them.

Charlotte was always there, and, so, they couldn’t have known Charlotte as anything separate from them. It wasn’t possible. It still isn’t.

Charlotte is their fourth piece. Always their fourth piece.

She fits with them and against them. She makes them a complete set. A perfect stable.

But she’s been running from them, pushing them away, shutting them out. So, they’re suddenly anything but stable.

And, at least, now they know why. At least, now, the reason that Charlotte’s been spiraling away from them has a reason.

Not that there’s a lot of logic behind it. Not that there’s a lot of sense. But at least they know, right?

_“I’m in love with you. All of you.”_

Becky had felt an almost sickening amount of relief at those words. Bayley had thought her legs were going to give out. Sasha’s heart had leapt into her throat.

Charlotte had been running from them for what felt like so long, that they had started to think, to fear, to know, that Charlotte might have lost her love for them.

The way that she would one hundred and eighty degree-turn her way around in the hallway when she spotted them. The way that she would ignore their calls and texts and pleas for just a moment of conversation. The way that she pretty much ignored their existences and wouldn’t meet their eyes or say their names.

It had all been enough to make Becky, Bayley and Sasha start to doubt their standings, their footing. It had been enough to make them start to doubt the sureness of their place in Charlotte’s life.

So, hearing those words. Hearing Charlotte tell them she loves them, not just with the old implications they were used to, but with new implications, with the same intensity with which they love her back, it was relieving enough to have the tears always swelling in their eye sockets ready to seep out.

But then she had kept going. She had made it seem like they didn’t love her back, or at least not with that same intensity.

She had told them she would be happy for them. She would be a better _friend_. She just needed more _time_.

And Becky had wanted to cut her off.

Becky had managed to. At least in her path away from them, always away from them, Charlotte hadn’t gotten past for once.

 _“I promise I understand,”_ she had said, as desperate to leave as they were for her to stay.

 _“No, Charlotte, please,”_ Becky’s voice nearly broke. _“You don’t understand. We—.”_

Adore you. Miss you. Don’t want to live without you.

Never want a day to go by without you near. Will spend the rest of our lives making sure you don’t feel unloved and alone. Have never known someone more deserving of happiness.

The possibilities were endless. But Becky knows where she was going.

_‘We love you.’_

Her lips and tongue had been working together, forming the next two words, the only words that mattered. They would clear things up. They would start to mend it all.

_‘We love you.’_

That’s all that needed to be said. Becky knew it was.

Charlotte would have paused at them, simply because she’d have been too shocked to do anything else. And then Bayley would’ve stepped to stand on Becky’s right, and Sasha would’ve moved to be on Becky’s left, and they would’ve looked at Charlotte like they always have, only with the meaning suddenly deciphered.

They would’ve explained it all to her then. How it was the worst misunderstanding of the century. How Charlotte hadn’t heard the whole conversation in the locker room. How she could never be excluded.

_‘We’ve always loved you.’_

It was so simple.

Except, of course, it wasn't.

Because then Paige had come in and cut Becky off right at the start, way before any of that could happen.

She broke the bubble. She stumbled into the button that made Charlotte’s doors snap shut again.

She pulled Charlotte away again, gave Charlotte an out, gave her permission to go.

And Becky had almost been brave enough to tighten her grip around Charlotte’s arm. Her fingers had wanted to on instinct.

But she couldn’t force Charlotte to stay. She _couldn’t_.

So, Charlotte went, looking a little relieved and a lot devastated.

And Becky, Sasha, and Bayley were left to live in the wake of her confession, knowing that, now, more than ever, it will be so hard to get Charlotte to just stay still and _listen_ to them.

Because Charlotte doesn’t think they love her back. Charlotte probably doesn’t think she deserves their love. Charlotte will probably do whatever it takes to stay away from them.

And all because Becky hadn’t been brave enough to tighten her grip.

But Sasha is there, speaking soft words into her hair, knowing it’s her turn to try at the role of Atlas.

“Shh, Becks,” she says. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

Becky just shakes her head and buries her face in her useless hands, much in the same way she’d wanted to bury her face in Charlotte’s neck.

Bayley stays silent on her other side. She can’t find it in herself to nod in agreement, because she doesn’t know anymore. She isn’t sure. She’s never experienced such emotional whiplash before.

“Two more minutes,” Becky murmurs, before getting louder. “Two more _seconds_. That’s all I needed. All _we_ needed.”

Her voice always gets so hoarse when she’s emotional, like every single part of her is cut up and wants the world to know it.

“Becks—.”

“I could’ve—We could’ve—.”

“Shh, love, it’s alright.”

Becky swallows thickly.

“ _How_?”

“She said she loves us,” Sasha replies, wavering weakly. “She said she loves us, and that’s more than we thought thirty minutes ago.”

Becky and Bayley clench their jaws and glance down to the floor. Sasha looks between them a little like she doesn’t know what to say.

She’s never been the one that’s optimistic. She’s not one for rousing speeches or pep talks.

But there’s a new hope in her chest, a realization that they’ve all been stupid and that Charlotte is more oblivious than she previously thought, but it's okay. It's okay, because Charlotte loves them, and, god, they love her so much it gets hard to breathe when she's gone.

So, she says again, “She loves us,” more resolutely. “This is a good thing. This is the best thing we could’ve heard.”

“Yeah, but now she’s probably going to make sure she never sees us again,” Bayley whispers, kind of to herself, kind of not, still holding Becky like she doesn’t want her to feel bad about it all.

“She can try,” Sasha retorts. “But we’re not going to let her. Not now. Not when we know that we can fix all of this mess, all of our pain and all of  _her_ pain, in one conversation.” She shakes her head. “No. No way. We’re done letting her slip away. _I’m_ _done_ letting her slip away. Tomorrow we’re going to make her stay and sit and listen, whether she likes it or not.”

“How?” Becky asks again, softer now, less broken but still so bruised.

Now, Sasha’s got two gazes on her, waiting for her answer, and she hates that she can’t give it to them.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “Not yet. But we’ll figure it out. We’ll fight, like we always do.” She tightens her grip on Becky’s shoulder, and she reaches out for Bayley’s hand. “We’ll get our girl, alright?”

A few seconds pass before Becky nods, slowly. Then about one more, before Bayley reaches over and entwines their fingers together, squeezing lightly and then bringing the back of Sasha’s hand to her lips.

“Alright,” she whispers, into Sasha’s skin.

And it’s not that they would ever give up on Charlotte. Their moment of despair would never have led to that.

But, still, there was a newfound resolution. A sudden steeliness. A determination.

Becky can feel it.

Bayley can feel it.

Sasha can feel it.

Sasha can, arguably, feel it the most. So, she leans over to press two faint kisses to Becky’s temple, to try to transfer some of her sureness to the woman, because she needs it more.

“Okay. So, let’s get off this floor, and let’s go back to the hotel,” she urges gently. “We’ll give her space for one more day. One more day, that’s it. We’ll plan it out to try to be as careful as possible, and then we’ll clear all of this up.”

Becky and Bayley nod together this time.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” Bayley says.

Becky’s delayed by a third of a second.

“Yeah,” she breathes.

Sasha swallows.

“Okay, let’s go.”

They all stand together, still linked to one another and close by.

And Sasha hopes, as they grab their things, that she isn’t lying. That she doesn’t have to watch Becky blame herself again, or see Bayley look so hurt. She hopes that she never has to watch Charlotte walk away from them again.

Bayley believes, as they walk to their car, that the next day will finally be the end to all of this aching. That they’ll finally, _finally,_ be able to be the unit the universe intended. Because they’re all so perfect for one another, that it would be a crime to allow anything less to pass.

And Becky, with her hand still smarting and stinging from abandonment and inadequacy, resolves that she’ll be braver. That she doesn’t care what obstacles and hurdles she has to jump through. She’ll get Charlotte to listen. She’ll make Charlotte stay all on her own if she has to, but she knows she won’t.

Because they’re all three together. They’re a partially drawn square, a stable not all the way built back up, but they’ll be complete soon enough.

There’s no way they’ll let anything else be the outcome.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> My Tumblr is Flairfatale.


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